The Brothers Unite
by sleepwell
Summary: Damon and Stefan. Brothers divided. But they now have a common goal. To save Elena and the humans she loves. What will this do to their relationship? Who will survive? And at what cost? Warning: Slash
1. Times Change

_Hey! *Spoiler Alert* Wasn't that a crazy season finale? Still processing it all. Delena fans must be in heaven! My predictions for Season Three include Damon and/or Stefan bringing back to 'life' Elijah and the rest of the original family, Caroline and Tyler causing inter-species angst and Bonnie disappearing mysteriously from the show along with Matt (OK, that last one isn't a prediction, rather a wishful thought!) Also, if Jeremy can see the dead-undead, does that mean Jenna might put in an appearance? And, my final thought for now, Alaric needs to get his own story line rather than running around helping everyone. He was adorable with Jeremy!_

**OK. Warning: This story will contain Slash, Vamcest ;) It takes place towards the end of season two, so there will be general spoilers. It will be a short story, just a few chapters I think. Please review!**

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><p>I have learned to live dead. To walk the earth without a heartbeat. Without companionship. Alone in an every changing world. It has been no simple feat to survive this long. Being undead isn't for the faint of heart.<p>

But what choice did I have in the matter? My brother changed my destiny unequivocally, irrevocably on the day he decided my fate. My _own_ beloved, younger brother chose immortality for me. Damned me to an existence that I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. Who, for over a century, has been Stefan.

Existing amongst the living. Alongside breathing, laughing, crying humans. Humans who love, hate, grow old, die. For many years I kept it 'turned off'. Didn't allow myself to think or feel like a human. It made it so much easier to live amongst mortals. To kill them. To feed on them. To use them. It made it possible to be dead in a world that was so alive.

However, one vestige of human emotion remained throughout the passing of time. Anger. My anger was born on the day I died. An all abiding, unquenchable rage that fed me for decades. The only human emotion I allowed. That all encompassing, burning fury made it possible to endure the passing of the years. Alone.

I should have known that Mystic Falls would the place where it would end. Back to the beginning. It appears that Santayana got it right- those who don't learn from their mistakes are bound to repeat them. By allowing myself to feel again, to love another, I open myself up to possibilities. It is by loving her that I will, once again, love my brother. Only to re-learn the age-old lesson. Love causes pain. Love ends in death. That is what love is.

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><p>I, alone, feel his suffering. The hurt he denies. He has moved through the world treating everyone as the enemy. Throughout the decades he has used and discarded humans. He embraced his vampire self a very long time ago in order to survive. Self-preservation. His actions, his outward façade were carefully designed and perfected over the years. To repel others. To avoid complications. He makes it difficult to love him.<p>

I love him because I made him who he has become. I alone am responsible for his anger, his self-loathing, his bitterness, his enduring unhappiness. I recognize that his hatred for me was born of his love for Katherine. And I understand that, deep down, he will never forgive me. And yet I also know this-he needs me.

And I know his secret. The secret that is quickly becoming an un-secret. Damon has allowed himself to care. And this knowledge frightens me. Not because of possibly losing Elena. But because this emergent human emotion will destroy him. This human failing will leave him vulnerable, open to harm.

I get that he loves Elena. She embodies all that was good in Katherine. And Elena hasn't rejected him. Despite everything. And by extension of his feelings for Elena, he feels protective of the humans surrounding her. He will do anything for this human.

He will die for her. And, although we would both give up immortality to keep Elena safe, it will be him that succeeds. In the end, I will lose my brother. The very thing I tried to prevent all those years ago. We will come full circle.


	2. Early Days

_This chapter takes place between episodes 19 (Klaus) and 20 (The Last Day) with a flashback to episode 15. Therefore, general spoilers. And Slash. Please review!_

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><p>"You look so fine" he drawled. I laughed irreverently, having learned a long time ago not to take any compliment from him seriously. He used words the way most men used weapons. 'A turn of phrase' from Damon could rival any knife twist to the heart.<p>

"Thanks" I replied in a mocking tone, "You are a fairly presentable specimen yourself." Standing shoulder to shoulder, admiring our half naked reflections in the large, full-length mirror, I had to agree that the Salvatore brothers made a fine impression. An advantage gained from becoming a vampire at the height of our physical prowess and appeal.

I captured my brothers' glance in the mirrored image and held his gaze. Those piercing blue eyes. That could see right through me and into my soul. It had always been like that. Even when we were alive. My older brother, always looking out for me. Always steering me clear of trouble while getting into plenty of his own.

Damon gave his familiar half smile, twisting up the right side of his lip. It was as if he could read my mind. Knew that I was thinking of long ago times. A memory grabbed me, pulling me back into the past. An over riding sense of déjà vu.

The two of us. Brothers, standing side by side, much as now. Dressed in suits, but in the style of an era long ended. In the middle of an evening of debauchery. Damon had pulled me in for a 'talk', as always, attempting to steer me from the destructive path I had taken upon becoming a vampire. Counseling me on the need for restraint. Urging me to put a halt to the mindless, ceaseless taking of human life.

Against his wishes, I had organized yet another evening parlor party. Where I was planning to take full advantage of the beautiful women who had clamored for the chance to attend a Salvatore soiree. My idea of being a solicitous host? Draining the life force from my guests.

Ignoring Damon's pleas, I had descended the wide staircase and entered the large drawing room, where the party was at its apex. The guests had been imbibing freely for hours, the liquor flowing, music playing, and lewd behavior ensuing.

I circled the room, biting necks, sucking forcefully on arteries until the young lady dropped dead in my arms, her heart still pumping, before moving quickly on to the next 'willing' victim. I remember Damon following me, compelling people to leave, pleading with me to stop. Finally, he snapped. He had yelled at me. Told me he was done with me, that he was leaving town. I begged him not to. Not to desert me. Not to leave me with my guilt.

Using his superior vampire strength and speed, he had forced me up the stairs into my bedroom. Away from the mindless killing. Tossing me roughly onto the bed, he was atop me before I could protest. Pinning my arms above my head, he leaned over me, using the weight of his upper body to hold my arms and upper body still. Gradually, I stopped struggling, ceased my leg and hip bucking as my attempts to dislodge him from his seated position proved futile.

I settled for glaring up at his scowling face. I could still taste the metallic, liquor scented blood in my mouth. Knew that my lips and chin were stained as if I'd bitten into a large, over ripe plum. Studying Damon's murderous expression, I deliberately and slowly ran my tongue over my lips. Seductively, suggestively. Not really sure what I was trying to do. Perhaps I just wanted to piss him off.

He snarled, fangs descending, eyes darkened. "Ha" I laughed derisively, "Your anger is always so close to the surface, brother. You'd love to hurt me. Kill me even. Your fake concern for my well-being is _so_ transparent. What do you care what I do? If I'm hunted down by the town's people? Staked? Then you'd be rid of me. Your revenge would be complete."

Damon's face rearranged itself. His features returned to the beauty that was my beloved older brother. He shook his head slowly from side to side. "Stefan. This is no way to go about eternity. Eternity. Do you get it? We are going to be here for an eternity. That is forever. We will be on this earth forever. And we can't survive by living like this. Ripping open the throats of every young person just because you envy them their humanness. We have to find another way."

He released one of my trapped hands. Slowly drew the back of his hand along the length of my outstretched arm. Reaching my shoulder, he briefly squeezed before lightly placing his fingers alongside my neck. Bending down, he whispered, "It's true. I _would_ love to feel a pulse pushing against my hand. I wish your lips and chin were stained with strawberry juice from a picnic in the woods. I would give anything to place my head on your chest and listen to my beloved brother's heartbeat. To lie with you and to fall asleep knowing that tomorrow we would wake up alive and happy. To discover all of this was just a bad dream."

Pulling my shirt over my head, he gently lowered us back onto the sheets, resting his head in profile against my chest. I could feel his eyelashes flutter as he slowly closed his eyes. My arms wrapped around him, holding him close. We lay like that for a long time. The noises in the house gradual dimmed, faded, as guests left taking their laughter and drunkenness out into the night. Back to their mortal world. Silence prevailed.

And then. Damon's fingers on my lips. Stroking gently, tentatively. Before I could form a conscious thought, I had caught one of his long, slender fingers in my teeth, drawing it into my mouth. Closed my lips around it, sucking, my tongue circling. This drew a soft moan from Damon, a vibration I felt against my ribcage.

He turned his head slightly and began to place open-mouthed kisses along my cool flesh. Snaking his tongue out, he brushed against a sensitive peak. Involuntarily, my back arched, thrusting the entire nipple into his waiting mouth. "Oh my god" I groaned aloud. These sensations I had never experienced in life.

I tore his hand from my lips and forcefully placed it between my legs. There was no doubting the effect Damon had on me. Without pause, he encircled my erection through fabric and began to stroke. Slowly at first. Then, as my hips snapped to push myself further into his fist, he responded in kind. The rough material of my pants provided additional friction, serving to heighten the sensation of physical gratification.

I needed to kiss him. To taste him. "Damon" I begged. He answered by lifting his head, staring at me through the dark. Reacting to the longing in my eyes, he raised himself on extended elbow and bent down swiftly. His lips were hard, bruising. His tongue thrust into my mouth, demanding and urgent. The scent and taste of human blood and liquor mingled with Damon was overwhelming, intoxicating.

I gave myself over to him, his passion rising as he felt my body respond to his touch. Without being aware of how, we were naked, moving together, rocking into each other. I needed to be closer. I wanted forgiveness, to be granted clemency. I ached for him to love me again, to have the pain caused by my act of betrayal eased, soothed. "Fuck me" I demanded. And then begged. "Please Damon. I want you inside me."

He had hesitated. The expression on his face conflicted. Anger and hurt battling desire. I reached up to stroke his face. "Please Damon, I love you." Snarling, he jumped up. Grabbing his scattered clothing, he moved towards the door. Pausing, he glanced back at me lying open, vulnerable on the bed.

"I will always hate you for what you did to me. I will never forgive you, Stefan. Never." He closed the door softly behind him. As I lay there for hours, wanting him desperately to return, I overheard him downstairs speaking to Lexi. Asking her to help me. And then he had left. For a very long time I was without my brother.

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><p>Damon bumped my shoulder with his, pulling me back to the present. "Where'd you go, little brother?" he asked in a gentler tone than was his norm. I shook my head quickly side to side, trying to clear the ghosts of yesterdays. "Nowhere, big brother. I'm right here."<p>

"Well" he replied, all his attention back on the issue at hand, "What's the plan then, oh-wise-one? How are we going to save Elena? And kill a wannabe were-vamp in the process?"


	3. Tough Times

So, this chapter is dedicated to The Brother's Unite three reviewers: _Death'sAngel18_, _Taylor LaRue_, _Aslan is love_! Thanks you guys, I love hearing from people. This chapter is a flashback to a made up time, therefore no spoilers. Vamcest warning.

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><p>Standing beside him, so close, staring into those quiet, intense eyes, my thoughts wandered from the present. I could tell he was also lost in the past, yet I wasn't sure I wanted to know where his memories had taken him.<p>

Saint Stefan. My formerly beloved younger brother. Who had renounced his vampire nature, striving to cling to his humanity for decades. To what end, I used to think. Mortals die. They live a prosaic existence, focusing on day-to-day struggles that, at the moment of their death, amount to nothing.

The longer I existed, the greater the disdain I felt for these pitiful creatures. The world is a shit place, where humans strive in vain for things they can never achieve. Things like love, peace, happiness.

I had trouble in those days understanding why my brother would want to be a part of humankind. We had been freed from the toil of earthly pursuits, from the ceaseless quest for achievement and inner tranquility. Once I left Stefan's side and Mystic Falls, I turned off the switch and stopped giving a shit.

In the dawning light, with Stefan's cool shoulder pressed against mine, I was drawn back to a time when my brother had "fallen off the wagon". I had been up north, in Canada, escaping prohibition. I mean, seriously, what was _that_ about? A country that banned the production and drinking of alcohol was _not_ my idea of a civilized nation.

It was a dreary November night and I was imbibing home brewed liquor in a dark, smoky Montreal tavern. I had recently discovered the allure of French women. It was late, I was drunk, and, despite the excess of alcohol, I was craving blood. So the party continued upstairs, above the bar, avec Monique, Danielle et Anne. All of us naked, screwing on the bedbug ridden, musty mattress.

I was about to sink my teeth into Monique's pale, swan-like neck when I heard it. An insistent tapping at the cracked windowpane. Trying to ignore what I already knew was coming; I unsheathed my fangs and bit down. Bliss. Annoying tapping. Sucked in blood as the other women sucked on my flesh.

Only to be denied my climax by the continual, persistent knocking. Sighing loudly, I tossed the women across the room and left the bed to open the window. Beheld Noel. An oldish vampire known to both Stefan and myself. Liked by neither.

"Fuck off Noel" I greeted him. "Your timing sucks, and not in a good way. What could possibly be _so_ important that you felt the need to interrupt ma petite fete? This had better be tres important or I'll rip your worthless throat out."

"Your brother." He answered. "Your brother is going to get himself killed. He's on a rampage. Ever heard of Al Capone?" I shook my head in affirmation. "Well, Stefan has taken up with him in Chicago. He's ripping, Damon. Bodies everywhere. I think you need to stop him. Before he draws any more attention to himself. And to _us_. He's been shot half a dozen times and those gangsters can't figure out how he keeps getting up. It's bad, Damon."

I found him in a seedy, rundown hotel. Stinking of cheap perfume, unwashed human, and tainted blood. He looked like shit, sitting there slumped on the disgustingly dirty bed. His eyes were glazed, his hands unsteady. He regarded me with a mixture of hostility and relief. And something else. Another emotion that I didn't want to see, didn't want to acknowledge.

"Damon" he said woodenly, "What the hell are you doing here?" I couldn't respond. Seeing him like this, I felt something stir deep within me. Regret? Guilt? Affection? Whatever. I told myself that I was only there to set him straight. To get him away from Chicago. Away from a dangerous situation that was drawing unnecessary attention to us, to the vampires wandering the world.

I swore I didn't care that he looked so adrift, so forlorn. That he was staring at me with longing, with…..love. He reached out his hand. And I was lost. I swiftly crossed the small room and took him in my arms. The stench of him was overpowering. Gently I undressed him. Managed to find an urn with stale water on the rickety dresser.

Removing my shirt, I dampened it and began to wash him. Tenderly. This was my younger brother and I was responsible for him. Like old times. As I bent down to wipe away the grit from his neck, his lips were suddenly upon mine. Searching, pleading. I felt myself responding. Unwillingly at first. My resolve vanishing as he tangled his tongue with mine, drew me down onto the bed, pulled me close.

In that moment, the years spent estranged from my brother were forgotten. My ever-present anger quelled. There was only Stefan. Kissing him, feeling his desolation fade, his passion grow, I felt alive again.

Growling, I flipped Stefan onto his stomach. Reached around with one hand to stroke his erection. Enjoying his moans of pleasure, I used my damp shirt to moisten that puckered muscle. Pulling Stefan to his knees, I swiftly entered him from behind.

Both of us were soon panting, unable to hold back. There was no need for words, our shared rhythm fast and furious. The years of separation obliterated with each driving thrust, with each stroke. Our movements became almost frantic, each driven to climax through the other's movements, urged on by cries of pleasure. He came before I did, muscles spasming in ecstasy, crying out my name. That drawing-in sensation around my cock pushed me over the edge. I spilled into him, shuddering as I collapsed, pushing him down into the mattress.

We lay there quietly for a time, each lost in our own thoughts. Rolling off, I lay on my back, staring up at the peeling, moldy ceiling. "What the hell are you doing here, Stefan?" I asked softly. "Missing you," he whispered, the sound of a sob in his voice.

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><p>Shaking my head, I returned to the present. Bumped Stefan's shoulder with mine, trying to draw him back from wherever he had escaped to. We were facing a turning point. We had to take a stand. I knew what had to be done to save Elena. But I had to get my brother to agree to my plan. To stand together. United. To save Elena, I would need to risk everything. Including the new-found peace Stefan and I had forged. Last night. After Elijah had demanded his stupid apology. After Andi had left, forced out by my anger. After Stefan had found me, broken and hurting. Last night. It had meant everything. And standing there, staring into each other's eyes, we both knew it.<p> 


	4. Brothers United

Final chapter. Thanks to those reading along silently!

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><p>I knew he was in pain. The way he had been acting. Our constant bickering. My 'elephant in the room' moment when I accused him of loving Elena. And now. Hearing him roar at Andi. Kicking her out of the house. I knew what it was about. And I had to speak to him.<p>

I left Elijah and Elena still talking. Told Elena I needed to go check on him. Elijah cast me a calculated look that I chose to ignore. It wasn't any of his fucking business. And who was he to judge? I had heard the rumours about Klaus and him. So. He wasn't really one to talk.

Damon was standing in the middle of his bedroom facing the draped window. His shirt off. Fists clenched tightly. His head bowed. I sighed. This wasn't going to be easy. He was really wound up. I walked up behind him slowly, cautiously. Reminiscent of approaching a dangerous animal. Except this wasn't an animal. It was my brother. My hurting, angry vampire brother.

"Hey" I addressed him softly, "I saw Andi leave. Are you OK?" He flinched. "No Stefan. I'm _not_ fucking OK. Why would I be OK? Elena's life is in danger. As is pretty much everybody else. And you want me to _apologize_ to that arrogant asshole. And to trust him. Because Elena trusts him. As if that makes sense. Because it doesn't. It makes no sense to trust an ancient with an agenda. You're being irresponsible. Not to mention stupid. "

He paused. Turned his head to regard me over his shoulder. "And I just want to kill. The urge to drink human blood is making me crazy. Alcohol isn't doing a thing. I don't think I've ever gone this long. The blood bank thing just isn't cutting it. I really don't understand how you've managed all this time." He slowly sank to the floor. Onto his knees.

Wow. This was a Damon I hadn't seen in a long time. A defeated Damon. My older brother who always had 'the plan'. Who was quick with the witty comeback. The king of "I _so_ don't give a fuck." This vampire in front of me wasn't the brother I knew. The brother who had saved me from myself time and time again. The brother I loved.

Crossing the room, I placed my hands on his shoulders. Pressed down lightly, feeling the tension in his muscles. He was on the edge. I wasn't sure what to do, what to say. I just knew that I had to make things right between us. I couldn't survive the next couple of days if I wasn't sure of him. Of us.

"Damon. We've spent so much time being angry at each other. You hating me for what I did to you. Me hating you for turning your back on me. Time and time again."

Damon slumped back against me, leaning against my legs, as if he could no longer keep himself upright. "I was _always_ there for you, Stefan. You know that. I rescued you over and over. Saved you from yourself. Returned you to your chosen path. Your ridiculous way of living. Even though I disapproved, thought you were crazy. Every fucking time. I came running. From wherever I was, dropping whatever I was doing. To find you, comfort you. So don't accuse me of turning my back on you. I _never_ walked away from you when you needed me. Never. And you know it."

"Yeah," I replied softly. "You were always there when I screwed up. But you always left. You never stayed."

"Because we would always start to fight. You didn't like my lifestyle. I didn't like yours. You thought me cold, calculating. I considered you sub-vampire. Blah blah blah. Same old shit, different era."

"But it hasn't been like that this time. Since we've both been back. Maybe in the beginning. But up until the last few days, I thought we were growing closer. Reaching an understanding."

"Aren't you forgetting one minor detail?" Using my legs as support, Damon pulled himself into a standing position. Still facing away from me, he walked slowly to the bed. Dropped, rather theatrically, face first onto the mattress, arms outstretched to shoulder height. "Elena?" he mumbled into the pillow.

I paused. Thought hard about what to say next. Took a deep breath and started. "You love her because_ I_ love her. And you love me. No matter how much you hate me or are angry with me, you still love me. Deep down. You want me to be happy. And I _am_ happy with her. But that doesn't mean I don't need you. Because I do. Need you. Always have. Always will. Please Damon, I don't want to fight like this anymore. We need to stand together if we are going to win this fight. Save Elena."

Damon rolled over onto his back. Propped himself up on his elbows. Regarded me intently. "You want us to stand united. Forget about the past. That's a tall order, Stefan. Come here." He beckoned with his hand. "Come on. I'm not going to bite."

Laughing, I jumped onto the bed beside him. Ran my index finger down his chest. Where it rested on his belt buckle. It had been a long time. A very long time. We hadn't been together in that way since the sixties. Damon had become increasingly angry, unreasonable through the ages and I had gained better control over my urge for fresh human blood.

But now, seeing him lying there, vulnerable and unhappy, I felt a surge of emotion. I wanted to comfort him, make things all right again between us. I bent down and kissed him, taking him by surprise. He startled and pulled back. "What are you doing, Stefan? I thought we didn't do this anymore? Elena's down the hall, I heard her go to bed. And Elijah's still here. With his supersonic hearing."

I kissed him again, effectively shutting him up. I was done with talking for now. The future was uncertain, full of danger. I just wanted to be with my brother, to forget about tomorrow. He gradually returned my kiss, opening his mouth, letting my tongue enter and take over.

My hands roamed over his body. Familiar territory, but it had been awhile. I remembered how he liked being held in my hand while his erection grew. I recalled how he reacted to slow, strong strokes. Smiled as he uttered that memorable groan as I took him into my mouth. This was so good.

I forgot about Elena sleeping down the hall. Even when I heard Elijah slam the front door, I could only grin, imagining the original's expression. Damon reached down and pulled me up along his smooth, muscled torso. He smiled up at me before flipping me over onto my back.

"Well, little brother. It certainly has been awhile. I'd forgotten how good we are together. How much you love it when I do this." I gasped as his hand reached between my legs and with two fingers entered me. His memory was excellent, that was clear. Because he kept on, causing me to utter moan upon moan. My excitement only served to fuel his desire. Pulling my legs up around his waist, he thrust his cock into me with one, swift, hard thrust forward. I felt like I was going to lose my mind. But Damon didn't allow time for adjustment, instead he continued thrusting, driving us both towards simultaneous orgasms.

Much later, I lay in his arms, both of us quiet. I knew that our thoughts had returned to the situation at hand. But I felt calmer than before, more at ease. I knew that whatever tomorrow would bring, my brother would be there for me. That whatever course of action he chose, it would be with my best interests at heart. Because he loved me. For always.


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